CLOUDLESS HEAVEN

None wanting yonder
Bought by the Lamb,
All gathered under
The evergreen palm;
Loud as night's thunder
Ascends the glad psalm.

Horatius Bonar.

WE SPEAK OF THE REALMS OF

THE BLEST

WE speak of the realms of the blest,
That country so bright and so fair;
And oft are its glories confessed-
But what must it be to be there?

We speak of its pathways of gold,
Its walls decked with jewels so rare;
Its wonders and pleasures untold—
But what must it be to be there?

We speak of its service of love,
The robes which the glorified wear,
The Church of the First-Born above-
But what must it be to be there?

We speak of its freedom from sin;
From sorrow, temptation, and care,

From trials without and within

But what must it be to be there?

WE SPEAK OF THE REALMS OF THE BLEST

Do Thou, Lord, 'midst pleasure or woe,
For heaven our spirits prepare;

Then soon shall we joyfully know

And feel what it is to be there.

Mrs. Elizabeth Mills.

ZION IS OUR HOME

ZION is our home;

Jerusalem the city of our God.

O happy home! O happy children here!
O blissful mansions of our Father's house!
O walks surpassing Eden for delight!

Here are the harvests reaped once sown in tears;
Here is the rest by ministry enhances ;

Here is the banquet of the wine of heaven,
Riches of glory incorruptible,

Crowns, amaranthine crowns of victory,
The voice of harpers harping on their harps,
The anthems of the holy cherubim,

The crystal river of the Spirit's joy,

The bridal palace of the Prince of Peace,
The Holiest of Holies-God is here.

Edward Henry Bickersteth.

A YEAR IN HEAVEN

ONE year among the angels, beloved, thou hast been,

One year has heaven's white portal shut back the sound of sin;

And yet no voice, no whisper, comes floating down from thee,

To tell us what glad wonder a year of heaven may be.

Our hearts before it listen-the beautiful closed

gate:

The silence yearns around us—we listen and we

wait.

It is thy heavenly birthday, on earth thy lilies bloom;

In thine immortal garland canst find for these no room?

Thou lovedst all things lovely when walking with us here:

Now from the heights of heaven seems earth no longer dear?